When In Rome
by bausch und bogen
Summary: Back when Severus Snape's teeth were a little straighter, his hair a little cleaner.. he was trying to absolve himself and his status.  Can he really change when he's forced to keep his old friends and bad habits?  Set from betrayal to Voldemort and on.


Disclaimer: Characters, settings, etcetera etcetera, do not belong to me.

**A/N**: I used to be an avid Harry Potter fan… back when I was twelve or so and the first books were coming out. Then I grew up a little more and loss interest. However, having read the Deathly Hollows, I've found potential for more engaging fodder than the fanfiction I wrote of yesteryear.

**When In Rome**

_Prologue_

Rain pounded from the sky. From the lakefront, Hogwarts could barely been seen through the sweeping sheets. The day should have been sunny, gloriously inviting, with the entire Wizarding population celebrating the death of Voldemort. Though the immediate issues had been solved, even nature still felt the turmoil and the sorrow of the losses.

Severus Snape sat on large boulder by the lake. The folds of his robes clung to his painfully skinny frame and his long hair was plastered to his skull. He seemed unaware of the downfall, eyes staring forward in a hollowed gaze.

The last place anyone expected him to be was Hogwarts, under Dumbledore's ever-seeing watch. His former comrades were all dead, in hiding, or throwing themselves at the mercy of the Ministry. His new allies, he knew, would be eternally second-guessing his loyalty.

And Lily…

His eyelids fluttered in anguish. How stupid he had been, how could he have not seen that his actions—his affections—would bring her downfall. Ever since they were children, creating conflict, embarrassment, pain among her, her friends, her family. Had he never met her, had he never existed, she could have been…

To waste thought on his immediate future, the immense difficultly he would face, would be insignificant.

The wind gusted sharply. The rainfall, unexpectedly cold for midsummer, stung his exposed face and hands.

"Severus."

He flinched, but didn't respond.

"Severus, come to the castle." Albus Dumbledore stood several yards away, his aura unusually distant and indifferent. Rather than charm himself against the rain, he also allowed it to saturate.

Still Severus did not act as if he had heard. He did not move.

Finally Dumbledore approached the man, surveying him, statuesque in his burden. The contempt he had felt upon initial contact with the traitor felt misplaced now; strangely, the boy and man he once knew was absent. The feeling of humanity at all had left, leaving something more feral, like a wounded animal. He made his way next to Severus on the boulder and rested a hand softly on his shoulder.

Slowly, Severus bowed his head. "Why should you be out here? Why shouldn't you be out taking a moment of celebration with the rest of the world?" An Inferni could have spoke with more emotion.

"The time for celebration should never precede the time for mourning. Great witches and wizards have been lost, many friends of mine. I cannot celebrate, only be glad for the momentary halt and pay my respects. Why, Severus, should _you_ be out here?"

Infinitesimally, he shrugged. The intense display of grief before, when Dumbledore told him of the life and death of the Potter family, seemed recaptured and condensed. For a man like Severus Snape, implosion was always better than explosion.

"Certainly, Professor, you would rather I was outside your castle walls than in."

Sadness welled in Dumbledore. Wrong as the man had been, already he had put himself on the line. To treat him with disdain, without compassion, would betray the fragile trust. Dumbledore not only needed the powerful asset to his arsenal, he wanted to make sure the duty was an act of faith. He squeezed the shoulder, feeling all too well the ridges of bone through the soaked robe.

"Please, Severus. Come in. I will get you a cup of soup, perhaps some beef barley, I have quite wanted some myself. You can warm yourself and rest."

Severus lifted his head and looked at Dumbledore. The infamous eyes twinkled, sadly, but with sincerity. "Professor. I don't understand. Why should you expend yourself for the likes of me?" The last three words were bitterly said.

"Because you are not a bad man, Severus Snape, only a misguided one. You have shown that you are pure-hearted. Of course, I am here to help you." He smiled. "Now, come, I warn you that Poppy does not like to be disturbed with distributing Pepper-Up potion in the midst of her summer break."

The men walked back to the castle in dense but understanding silence. It was going to be a very long cycle of healing and proof. Dumbledore saw ever possible flaw in his decision as surely as Severus knew his intent.

A pure heart is a great foundation, but when the mind is corrupted… it remains to be seen which has the greater power. He could only hope for the best.

**A/N**: Clearly, this is obvious, short, and uninvolved. It is, of course, a prologue. I'm only toying with the idea. It could potentially become something more ominous and deep, should the ideas continue to pester me. Review if the mood strikes, it's always warms the cockles of the heart. XD  
Really, though, thanks for reading.


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